


Love and Loyalty

by Tainted_Grace



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: Adjusting Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Clueless Elijah, F/M, Family Secrets, How Do I Tag, Jealous Klaus Mikaelson, Klaus is a Bad Brother, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Elijah Mikaelson, Reunions, Secrets, Slow Burn, falling back in love, playing fast and loose with canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-07-01 10:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15771936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tainted_Grace/pseuds/Tainted_Grace
Summary: For a thousand years the legend of the Mikaelsons has been passed down until only the family themselves and a few close confidantes know the true version. Most people think that there are five Originals, Mikael and Esther Mikaelson's five children: Finn, Elijah, Klaus, Rebekah and Kol.Now what if I told you that the legend is wrong? What if I told you that there are actually six Originals (not including their long lost sister Freya)?This is the story of the lost Original, the girl that is not a Mikaelson and yet has all the powers of one.I suck at descriptions. Basically it's about an OFC that knew the Mikaelsons as humans and kids and was turned when they were for reasons I will not say here. Sorry, it's better than it sounds.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just going to leave a general apology here for the varying lengths of the chapters. This fic skips around in time a lot so I try to break them up pretty frequently so I'm sorry if that gets on your nerves or anything.
> 
> I don't ever really have the patience or time to get things beta'd so all mistakes are mine. Just drop me a comment about any glaring mistakes and I'll try to fix it as soon as I can.

**Autumn 1001 A.D.**

“Niklaus, Kol, _please_!” An enchantingly beautiful raven haired young woman begs, her rosy cheeks giving away her exhaustion as she chases two young men around a large white oak tree that stands proudly in the middle of the small village, engaged in an impromptu game of chase as her headscarf billowing from Niklaus’ grip in a parody of a game they once played as children.

The boys just giggle and keep running circles around the poor girl as she tries in vain to catch them. “Boys, play nice. You have the natural advantage, you know. Her arms aren’t exactly as long as yours.” A beautiful woman with long, reddish-blonde curls cascading down her back orders, kneeling beside the massive tree to pick the small purple herbs that are growing there. “Klaus, would you be a dear and fetch some water from the spring for supper please. Kol, go home and get out of those muddy clothes before your father sees you.” They immediately settle down and nod, Niklaus placing the length of fabric beside his mother and walking off as his brother retreats in the opposite direction.

The girl kneels beside the boys’ mother, smiling up at her as she leans forward to help pick the small stalks of flowers. “Thank you, Miss Esther.”

“Of course, my dear. I taught them to be more respectful than that. Their father may be a Viking, but they certainly are not, and I will not have them running around acting like they are.” She pinches the young woman’s cheek, making her smile grow, before they both turn back to their task.

“Ambrosia, my child, come inside! It’s nearly dark!” Another voice calls from across the way a short time later and the black haired adolescent perks her head up, rising to her feet and looking at Esther with an apologetic grin.

“I will see you in the morning for market. Please, tell Rebekah I send my greetings.” She smiles, picking up her scarf and folding it over her forearm before walking off in the direction of her own mother’s voice.

“Ambrosia, you know you aren’t supposed to be outside when it gets this close to dark, especially not on the night of a full moon. Get inside before it grows too late.” Her mother chastises her and she ducks her head, slipping past the woman with greying hair as the sun slips low over the horizon. “What would you like for dinner, my daughter?”

“A stew sounds wonderful. I would love to stay up and listen to the howling.” She beams as she shutters the windows, smiling innocently at her mother. “A stew would keep us warm and full throughout the night, and still leave plenty more for the wolf-men in the morning should they be hungry.”

“Well, that sounds delicious. Why don’t you get it started while I hurry and see if Esther has a spare carrot or two, hm? Don’t you go anywhere. I’ll be back before you can miss me.” She smiles, gently tapping her daughter’s nose and then turning to put on her cloak, unlatching the door and slipping outside.

+++

A series of short knocks on the door wake Ambrosia from where she has fallen asleep at the table waiting for her mother to return. The ingredients for the stew sit half prepared and spread out in pieces across the table, still uncooked, and the pot of water is hanging from the rack over the cold remains of the fire she started just after her mother left. She rises slowly, still groggy with sleep, rubbing at her eyes and reaching for her cloak to wrap around her shoulders when she realizes just how cold it has gotten before turning to answer the door.

When she sees Mikael standing there, sorrow etched into his face with Esther standing slightly behind him, sobbing into her eldest son’s shoulder while the boy stares at nothing in stunned silence, his eyes cloudy with tears of his own, Ambrosia knows something is horribly wrong. “Tell me, what has happened to bring all of you such sorrow?”

“My youngest son is dead.” Mikael says, his voice shaking as he tries to hold back sobs of his own, being strong for his family despite his own emotions. “Henrik and Niklaus went to watch the werewolves turn and-” He pauses, wincing and taking a deep breath to steady himself. “Your mother tried to save them but there were far too many wolves. Niklaus managed to get away with only a few scratches but-”

“What about my mother?” She cuts in, fear gripping her heart and making her blood run like ice in her veins.

Mikael looks up at her and she knows, his face and the pain in his eyes gives it away but she shakes her head anyway. “No. No, please. Tell me it’s not true. Where is my mother?” She insists, her hands beginning to shake and her body growing weak. “Mikael, please, where is she?”

He gestures towards the caves just outside of the village and she slips past him, running through the town without a second thought, the bright morning sunlight chasing after her almost mockingly. She slows at the mouth of the forest, her eyes catching on the red splattered across the dry leaves coating the forest floor and making her feet stutter, a streak of black and grey hair pushing her forward again until she is kneeling beside her mother’s body, tears flowing freely from her. “Mother? Mother, please! I need you to wake up, you have to wake up! Please! _Mamma_!” She says, shaking the woman’s shoulders, but nothing happens. She screams for hours, not letting anyone close to her until she feels familiar warm hands grip her shoulders, her sobs finally sapping her of her strength entirely and leaving her weak and powerless in the middle of the forest, hugging her mother to her chest, hoping beyond all hope that the impossible will happen and the woman will gasp back to life.

“Ambrosia, please. You will catch your death if you stay out here much longer.”

“My mother is dead, Elijah. Why would I want to stay alive?” She asks miserably, looking up into kind, sad eyes.

“I have no answers for you. No words that I could speak would bring her back _or_ bring you comfort. You cannot stay out here to die. She would want you to live on, to make her proud. Please, allow me to help you.”

She acquiesces, sagging back against his chest as he helps her to her feet, wrapping her up in his strong arms and shushing her until her crying grows dry. “I do not know how to go on, Elijah.”

“You will find a way.” He promises, his fingers gently carding through her hair as he holds her steady in his warm embrace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our story picks back up a millennia later with Ambrosia being summoned to New Orleans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of the story I think I'm gonna not post chapter summaries. With as short as they are it's probably not really necessary, right?
> 
> I'm sorry if it's still kind of unclear as to what the hell is going on still, it's kind of part of things. In a few chapters everything will be cleared up, I promise.

**Present Day**

In a little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop in Lower Manhattan a phone buzzes on a grey vinyl table and long, slender fingers tipped with gelled black nails swiftly grabs the device from the polished surface. A quick check of the screen leads to rolled eyes and a massive, heavy sigh. A perfectly manicured thumb swipes across the screen to accept the call while her other hand comes up to wipe a drop of bright crimson blood from the corner of her mouth. “This had _better_ be good. You’re interrupting my breakfast.” She brings the blood-streaked finger to her lips, sucking the substance from her pale skin and glaring daggers at the wall opposite her little corner booth in the back of the low-lit café.

“This is a summons, love. Breakfast can wait. It’s time for you to find your way back to the Big Easy.” With that the line goes dead, taking the annoyingly smug British male’s voice with it.

She shakes her head and lets out another sigh, dropping her phone back to the table and pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “Is everything alright?” A chipper voice asks from off to her left and she nearly growls, just barely stomping down the urge at the last second, the sound coming out as a disgruntled grumble.

“No. I’m afraid this little meeting of ours has to come to a rather abrupt end.” She turns to fully face the young college girl sitting beside her in the booth, her black rimmed ice blue eyes staring straight through the woman’s own soft greens. “You aren’t going to remember me. I was never here. Make sure you put something on that wound of yours. I would hate to think that you went and bled out on me. I might like a snack next time I’m in town.”

“I won’t remember you.” The girl parrots, her voice lilting like she is in a daze.

“You need to keep those marks covered up.” Her eyes flick down to the pinprick punctures on the girl’s neck before going back to staring her down.

“I’ll keep them covered.” She nods, still maintaining eye contact.

“Good. Enjoy your coffee.” When the girl blinks she snaps back into herself, looking around at the empty booth and then noticing the white porcelain cup on the table in front of her. She leans forward and takes a sip, slightly confused as to how she got up there.

+++

 “You’ve dyed your hair since last I saw you. I like it.” Klaus says, a smirk plastered onto his face as he walks closer to the woman standing on the balcony of a massive two-story compound just outside the city that the Mikaelson family now calls home.

“I didn’t do it to please you, Nik. Why the hell am I here?” She turns to face him, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the Original.

“I called, you came. That’s the way it has been for almost a millennia, and the way it will continue to be as long as you prove useful.” His smile is positively wicked when he steps even closer, humming the end of the sentence directly into her ear.

“You have a conflict of interest, though, Nik.” She points out, taking a step back and he gestures for her to continue. “You made it so that I can’t be around him, and yet, he’s here, living in this very house. Don’t you think that that _might_ affect my ability to follow through on your every whim?”

“I think it will be fun to watch you be miserable, my dear, _sweet_ Ambrosia.” She dashes forward, fangs out and her head angling towards his neck but he stops her with a hand on her throat, holding her inches away from his face, a smirk gracing his lips. “Knowing that he is so tantalizingly close, and yet so incredibly far from your reach should prove to be the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in _decades_. You _will_ do as I say, and you _will_ suffer because you know you can’t get near him, even if he is so incredibly _close_.”

“I _despise_ you.” She growls, jerking out of his grasp, her fangs retreating and the veins receding from around her eyes.

“I know.” He grins widely, winking at her. “Now, run along before he gets back. And keep your phone on, love.”

“Where am I supposed to go?”

“Figure it out.” He shrugs, walking back into the massive bedroom and shutting the French doors, leaving her on the balcony with her arms crossed, glaring at him with murder in her cool eyes.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated setting it in Mystic Falls but the backdrop of New Orleans was so much easier to work with. I can't tell you how much time I spent on Google researching the French Quarter or on Maps "walking" around the damn place. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of it if you want. I'll be down in the comments if you wanna come talk or ask questions or anything.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am liking how this is turning out.
> 
> I will admit that this is totally a self-serving work. I love Elijah and there just isn't enough good fics about the Originals in general. I only hope my contribution can help redress the balance.

“Are you willing to hear a confession, Father?” Ambrosia asks, standing in the back of the sanctuary, her hip resting against the back pew, hands sticking out of the front pockets of her ripped, bleached jeans.

“Are you even Catholic?” The man at the front of the room hums, stepping down from the pulpit where he is lighting a row of prayer candles. He slowly walks down the center of the aisle, hands folded in front of him.

“I’ve been many things in my life, Father. Now, are you willing to hear me out, or not?” She sighs, walking up the aisle to meet him, taking her hands out of her pockets to hold her arms out at her sides in question.

“I can’t absolve you of your sins, Vampire.” He says evenly, gesturing towards the confessional despite his words.

“I’m not looking for absolution, darling. And I’m an Original.” She shrugs, stepping into one side of the booth as he enters the other.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this? We can talk without the theatrics.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he feels a headache coming on.

“I’m sure. Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It’s been _decades_ since my last confession.” She starts, examining her nails in boredom. “I am a liar and a murderer. I am guilty of envy and jealousy. I also have a bit of a mean streak. What punishment would you have me serve, Father? What penance would pay the price of a thousand years of sin?”

“Death. As I said, I cannot absolve you and I cannot give you closure. What is it that you want from this?” The priest waves his hand at the beautifully carved partition, confused as to what he can provide the woman on the other side. “And, also, I thought I knew all of the Originals. How many of you are there?”

“There’s six Originals, two of which have no desire to step foot in New Orleans ever again, and then there’s Elijah, Klaus, Rebekah and me.” Ambrosia explains, ticking off her fellow Originals on her carefully manicured fingers. “And as for what I want from you, I want to make a deal, if you’re amiable.”

“There are _six_ of you demons?”

“Yes, that would be what I just said. Now, answer my question.” She hisses, glaring daggers at him through the screen.

“What could I possibly have that you would want or need?” He asks, meeting her gaze head on.

“You have a house. It’s in your name. _And_ you have living relatives. I need a place to stay and someone to talk to that will give me straight answers when I need them.”

“And you think that I am going to just up and invite a Vampire into my home because you need a therapist instead of a priest?” He sounds so disbelieving and astonished that Ambrosia briefly feels like she miscalculated.

“No. I think that you are going to invite an _Original_ into your home because I have something that you need.” She huffs, her level of agitation growing by the minute.

“Really?” He scoffs, “And what’s that?”

“Protection.”

“I don’t need your protection. I am one of the council membe-” The Father starts and she cuts him off with a peal of laughter, the sound of bells twinkling in the rafters and bouncing back to them in harmony with the sounds still leaving her lips.

“I don’t _mean_ protection for _you_ , love. I _mean_ for that petite little blonde niece of yours. Camille, was it?” She hums and the next thing Ambrosia knows the partition is being yanked open, Father O’Connell putting his finger in her face and setting his jaw.

“You can threaten me all you want but don’t you _dare_ go near Camille, or I’ll find a way to kill you _myself_ , _Original_ or not.” He growls and she just looks at his finger before grabbing his wrist and lowering his arm with just enough force to make sure that he can’t fight the movement without breaking something.

“I can protect her from Klaus, but only if we come to an agreement by the time I walk out of this building. You see, the hybrid owes me a favor and I could use it for one of two things: I could tell him to back off of your little blonde angel or I could use it to get a day pass to see my mother’s grave, which I haven’t been allowed to visit since the beginning of 11th century when I buried her. Which is it going to be? I promise I’m not an invasive housemate and I will rarely be there anyway. Klaus keeps me on a pretty tight leash.”

“What do you mean a tight leash? What does he have over you?”

“For the past nine and a half centuries I have been Klaus’ puppet, going wherever he wants me to and doing whatever he tells me to because he can compel me. I may be an Original but I am _not_ a Mikaelson, not by blood. Because of that I got one extra little weakness that the others don’t have to worry about. The Mikaelsons can compel me and Niklaus figured that out, right after he bit me and sent me into a haze that made me wish for death just so that the pain would stop.” She stands and pushes her way out of the confessional booth, Father O’Connell following after her at a more controlled pace. “I have been trying for _centuries_ to rid myself of that tyrant and the only thing that I’ve accomplished is getting every single person that has ever helped me killed. He can’t kill you without upsetting the blonde, which he is trying not to do because he’s interested in her _and_ you’re actually more useful to him alive than dead, at least for now.”

“Okay...”

“What?” She snaps, spinning on him, the veins around her eyes growing more pronounced and her fangs extending into razor sharp points in her agitation.

“Okay, you have a deal. I’ll let you stay with me, as long as you protect my niece. And I’ll even listen to your confessions about the past one thousand years as Klaus Mikaelson’s lackey.” He nods, holding out his hand and remaining completely calm, despite the livid vampire baring her teeth standing not three feet from him. “Just, one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“No feeding on the locals.” He says and she chuckles, shaking his hand and calming slightly.

“I think I can manage that one, Father. Text me your address. My number’s on your right hand, right above that little cross tattoo you keep hidden on your wrist.” She winks and then she’s gone, leaving the Father standing in the church all by himself, wondering what he just got himself into.

**  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think so far? I know that these first few chapters are pretty boring because it's all basically set up, but sometimes it's a necessary evil.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned!
> 
> I'm sorry this chapter took so long and ended up being so short. I had it nearly done a week and a half ago but my freaking immune system decided to tell me to take a hike so I've been fighting the flu for the past 9 days. I promise that the next update won't take nearly as long, barring another unforeseen illness or the death of my computer (knock on wood).
> 
> Anyway, enough about my reasons, let's get to the real reason you're here, shall we?
> 
> Enjoy.

**992 A.D.**

A little twelve year old girl with soft raven black hair and two boys of fifteen and sixteen years old – a blond and brunet, respectively – are playing in the town square, chasing each other around the massive white oak tree standing in the center of the small village. “Ambrosia, my darling, do be careful!” The girl’s mother calls and she pauses only briefly to nod and shoot a dashing smile at the woman sitting on a set of wooden stairs by the edge of the courtyard before she takes off running again, one hand holding up the skirt of her dress and the other reaching out to try and steal the makeshift flag – a scrap of fabric from one of the boys’ old shirts – from the boys playing with her.

While the sounds of giggles and joyous laughter fill the air Mikael walks towards the black haired woman perched on the steps leading to her front door, bowing to her respectfully. “This is not Scandinavia, Mikael. I am not a queen here, nor do I wish to be if it leads my late husband’s tyrannical brother to my sweet, innocent child. You do not have to bow on my account.”

“I may be a Viking, Your Grace, but I am also a gentleman. Even if you were not the royalty I know you to be, I would still treat you with such respect as a simple bow.” He smiles, gesturing to the empty stairs beside her. “May I join you?”

“Only if you promise to call me by my name from now on.” She smiles, scooting over and allowing Mikael the room to take a seat beside her, a respectable distance still between them as they watch their children play.

“My sons have seemingly taken a keen interest in your daughter, Eydis. Would you be willing to come to some sort of agreement?” Mikael asks, glancing at the woman beside him and noticing the knowing smile in her eyes.

“Nothing would make me happier, Mikael. You and Esther are raising fine young men that I would be more than willing to give my daughter to someday. I have but one request.” The estranged Scandinavian queen tells the Viking warrior, knowing that he is an honorable, reasonable man and will most likely agree to her proposed bride price.

“Anything.” He swears and she turns to face him fully, her expression growing serious.

“I want my daughter to be protected through everything. Should her uncle ever find her I need to know that her husband, whomever that may be, will be able to protect her, even though she can very well protect herself. I will promise her hand in marriage to whichever son proves to be the best warrior, the best protector for her. But you must also remember that I love my daughter, and will, therefore, take into account which son she shows favor towards. If your sons can prove to me by her 21st year that they are worthy and able young men then I will gladly offer her hand to one of them. Can you agree to my terms?” She asks, her hands folded in her lap and her shoulders and jaw squared, making her look every bit as regal and royal as she truly is.

“Of course, Eydis. I wish nothing but the best for Ambrosia. You have a deal.” Mikael nods, standing and kissing the knuckles of the woman before him, bowing his head and returning back to his home to relay the news to his wife while Eydis continues to watch her daughter laugh and smile while Elijah and Klaus try to catch her and steal the small scrap of material hanging from her grasp.

The mother looks to the sky and takes a deep breath. “She will be safe, my love.” She says to the clouds, one step closer to fulfilling the promise she made to her husband when he lay dying in her arms. “And she will be cherished, just as we hoped and prayed.” She continues when she sees the twin looks of adoration in the Mikaelson boys’ eyes.

**  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More backstory and set up but you have to mold the clay before you get a brick. I'm sorry again for how long this chapter took but I promise to try to get the next one up by the end of the night. 
> 
> Come talk to me and let me know what you think of it so far. I'm still trying to shape Amber and I'd love some feedback on what you guys think of her so far.
> 
> Anyway, I'll see you lovely people next time. Have a wonderful day or night wherever you are. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised a double update tonight because of the sheer length of time it took me to update since the last time so here is the fulfillment of that. I do apologize again for the brevity of these chapters but I figured that separating the years that each chapter take place would be better than having a year change in the middle of one and confusing all of us. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Present Day**

A loud knock on his door makes Father O’Connell stand, putting his Bible aside and unlocking the deadbolt, revealing the woman standing there, her white leather jacket looking even brighter in the low light of sunset, her black high-heeled boots clicking against the stones of the path leading to his front door. “Cute little place, Father. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Am I allowed to know your name first?” He sighs, not really expecting an answer.

“It’s Amber, well, it’s actually Ambrosia, but I’ve been sticking with the former for quite a while now and it’s kind of grown on me. I give you my word that I will never lie to you, Kieran. If you ask something I don’t wish to talk about I will simply say as much.” She tells the holy man, placing a hand delicately over her heart.

“How can I trust your word?”

“There are two Originals that stand by their promises and strive for honor. We do not give our word lightly and consider it a binding agreement that cannot be broken unless fulfilled or circumstances change. Trusting me is a choice you must make for yourself but trusting my word is like binding me to a contract.” She explains, eyes narrowing slightly at the distrust etched into his face.

“Won’t you please come in?” He sighs, stepping aside and allowing the Original to enter. He turns to shut the door and has to resist rolling his eyes when he faces his living room and finds Amber reclining on his couch, flipping through his Bible, her suitcase and bag at the end of the couch by her feet. “How did you know my first name?”

“Honestly, it’s not that hard to find information in this town. You just have to know who holds a grudge against whom. If I need information on a human, I seek out a vampire. Information on a vampire, I find a witch, etcetera, etcetera.” She waves her hand in the air, feeling more at ease now that she is in a home where she can have some semblance of peace, somewhere that Nik can’t just barge in and demand her presence or annoy her with his sheer proximity.

“How long have you been in town? I don’t think I’ve seen you before and yet you seem to know an awful lot.” He asks, standing in the doorway and crossing his arms.

“I got to town this morning. I’m very good at digging up information when I need to, though.” She winks and Kieran takes his Bible from her hands, folding it closed and placing it on the side table out of the way before turning back to face her with arms crossed.

“And my niece?”

“Don’t worry, Father. It’s all in hand. Starting the day after tomorrow you might want to get the girl some vervain to wear, just to be safe.” She waves her hand and he breathes out a sigh of relief. “Oh, and I need one more little promise from you, for your own sake.”

“What now?”

“You can’t mention me, to anyone. If Nik finds out that I’m staying with you he will kill you just to get to me. If Elijah finds out, I am compelled to kill whomever told him that I am still alive. And if Rebekah finds out Nik will be none too happy and probably kill you out of spite. So it’s better for all involved if my little stay in New Orleans goes unmentioned.” She sounds blasé about everything but there is an undeniable undercurrent of fear in her voice. If he wasn’t trained to listen for any cues to hidden emotion then Father O’Connell might have missed it.

“I guess I can manage that. So how does Klaus have you on a leash? What is he using as leverage?” Kieran asks, sitting in the armchair perpendicular to the couch Amber is sprawled out on.

“Nothing I say to you leaves this room. Is that clear?” She growls and the man nods, putting his hands up in a placating gesture of surrender. She takes a deep breath and decides to continue, wanting to get it all off her chest after so many years of repressing it. “Did you know that I used to be married? An eternity ago I stood in front of every living person I cared about and pledged to love this one man for all of eternity, even if death do us part. I gave my word and he gave his. Klaus was jealous of our union, though. Back then he was kind of in love with me, and he still is, or at least, a part of him is, but he knew how seriously I took my word, my vows. He would never ask me to sacrifice my honor to be with him, not back then and not even now, but after years of watching me be happy with another man he grew cruel, full of hate and resentment towards us both. That, coupled with his father’s rage, sent Nik off the deep end. None of us knew the extent of my weaknesses back then, and only Nik and I fully know them today.”

“Your weaknesses?”

“We weren’t _born_ Originals. When we became immortal it came with a few caveats. Vervain and sunlight, namely, though we eventually found ways around those, but because they realized that I was susceptible to their compulsion they had no idea what other weaknesses I may possess that they did not and we weren’t exactly willing to test it out. Anyway, Nik and I were walking to meet the rest of his family for a bit of a picnic in the woods when he grew inconsolably angry. I had made an offhanded comment about my period being late, of all things. It was a joke, obviously, but it was the evening of a full moon so he was even more volatile than usual. He bit me, ripped into my neck like the animal his father claimed him to be, and the venom in his bite was so painful that I wanted to die, if only to make the pain stop.”

“So it didn’t kill you? I’ve seen him bite vampires before. They die a slow and horrible death, screaming in agony.”

“No. The only weakness I have that the Mikaelsons do not is that I can be compelled. I cannot die and I can compel vampires and humans alike, just as they can. Now, do you want to hear the rest of the story or are you planning on interrupting me again?” She asks, folding her fingers together over her crossed knees and glaring at the man across from her, one eyebrow arching in question.

“Please continue.” He gestures and she smiles, relaxing back into the cushions.

“I was so wrapped up in pain that I couldn’t move – the amount of venom in his bite was much more concentrated back then than it is today, because his werewolf side had been repressed, so nature found a balance and made his bite incredibly toxic. He left me in the woods all night with wolves on the prowl, unable to defend myself or run. They could _smell_ death on me. None of the wolves would come near me; not one of them would help me or kill me. He came back the next morning. The whole family had been searching for me through the night but he led them in the wrong direction. I couldn’t speak and I couldn’t tell them what he had done. When he ‘found’ me and took me home Mikael said that I was contaminated, mauled by an animal. He ordered them to kill me, to put me out of my misery, so Klaus and Elijah took me into the woods to bury me beside my mother. While Elijah was gathering flowers for the grave Klaus spirited me away to a cave where no one would find me and buried nothing but dirt and a dead deer. Elijah thought he was being a good brother but he was actually stabbing them all in the back.”

“And Elijah eventually moved on because he thought you were dead.” Kieran fills in and she nods sadly.

“Not that hard to figure out which Mikaelson I’m still in love with, is it?” She sighs, being open with the priest now that her cards are on full view – the ones he knows about, at least. Besides, she has no reason to lie to him if he is to trust her and become an ally.

“You hide it well, I’ll give you that, but I’m a Catholic priest. I spend my days looking for the things that people don’t want to say, what they don’t want me to know. Even though I hate Vampires, and Originals, on principle, I would help you get him back if it didn’t mean you would kill me.” He stands then, clasping his hands behind his back and pacing the living room. “If there was any Original I would be willing to say that I could trust to be honorable and keep his word it would be Elijah, and he seems to mostly keep Klaus from acting on his crazier whims.”

“That sounds like Elijah. He will be at his brother’s side always and forever, just as he promised. Just as we _both_ promised.” She says bitterly, jaw clenching in irritation.

+++

Ambrosia wakes up to the sound of her phone ringing on the end table, the glass vibrating and annoying her acute senses. She rushes to answer the phone before the ringtone can piss her off. “What can I do for you this fine morning, oh dark lord of all that is evil and malevolent?” She asks sarcastically, rolling onto her back and scrubbing a hand down her face to wake herself up completely.

“Funny. Elijah is on a bit of a peace keeping mission with Marcellus. I expect you here in three minutes.” He hums and then the line goes dead.

Amber sighs, dashing around the room to get dressed and less than ten seconds later she’s out the door, running towards the plantation on the edge of town. She doesn’t bother knocking, just walking in and searching for the blond hybrid. She finds him painting, which is rarely a good sign. “You called?”

“Yes. There’s a witch in the quarter causing problems for me. I need you to do what you do best and take care of her, darling.” He says, not even bothering to face her.

“All I need is a name. Oh, and I’m calling in that favor you owe me – the one you can’t say no to without going back on your word, and, therefore, finally freeing me.”

“Are you now? And what can I do for you? And if you say let you visit Elijah I’ll never give you a single favor again.” He smirks, finally turning to face her, curiosity and mirth dancing in his eyes.

“I know you won’t grant the one thing I want. So instead, I’m taking something that you want. You must stay away from Camille O’Connell. You are not to see her, touch her, talk to her, or even get close enough to _smell_ her. _That_ is the favor I wish from you, Nik.” She growls, walking closer to him with every sentence until the tip of her pointer finger is just barely brushing against his chest.

“What do you care about her?” He asks, clearly intrigued by the request.

“I don’t, but you do. You fancy her, Nik. You take the love of my life away from me for almost a thousand years, torturing me with the knowledge that I can never see him again, and you think I’m not going to find a way to make your life hell?” She scoffs, backing off and crossing her arms. “You know me better than that.”

“Yes, I do. I will grant you your favor, but now we’re even, my dear. The witch’s name is Sabine Laurent. Do be careful.” He winks and she rolls her eyes, knowing that now she has to do everything he tells her to do without the knowledge that she could call in his favor and say no. She shudders to think what he may have her do as payment for ruining his fun with Camille.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think so far? 
> 
> I'm still mostly world building but it's going to get more interesting here very soon. I have a very clear idea of what the next few chapters are going to be and I can't wait to share them and introduce some more characters from the show. 
> 
> I'll be down in the comments, as always. You can feel free to stop by and say hi if you like.
> 
> I'll see all you beautiful people next time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to learn to stop apologizing for short chapters. Hell, James Patterson gets paid millions of dollars a year to write chapters that are mostly less than two pages each. 
> 
> So instead, I'm going to just say this: I posted, guys. And it's not late for once. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys like it. Enjoy.

Taking a tour of New Orleans is not Amber’s idea of fun, not even close, but she takes it anyway, paying close attention to the tour guide. When the rest of the group flocks to the block filled with overpriced gift shops at the end of the tour she stays back, leaning against the worn bricks of the building front as the curly haired woman comes to stand by her. “Don’t you ever die?” The Original hisses, eyes narrowing on the witch, both women crossing their arms over their chests, the hostility near palpable in the air.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you kill me again and find out?” Sabine suggests, holding out her arms in a ‘come and get me’ gesture.

“I was sent to kill Sabine Laurent, not Celeste DuBois. I’ve already killed _that_ bitch twice, in two different bodies. Tell me, do you still have Elijah falling head over heels for you?” Ambrosia asks, the veins around her eyes starting to darken but her fangs still staying safely tucked away in her gums.

“Elijah thinks I’m dead. He found my body, drowned in a bathtub; your handiwork, if I remember correctly.”

“Don’t play coy with me, witch. Why are you here?”

“There’s a lot going on in New Orleans. I’ve lived here for most of the last three hundred years. Don’t look for me to leave any time soon, honey.” Sabine, well, Celeste says, winking and taking a step back as the crowd of tourists flood the street once more.

In the brief second that she is gone from sight she vanishes and Amber almost screams when she can’t find her again, knowing that Klaus isn’t going to be happy. She makes her way back to the plantation house anyway, knowing that facing him is unavoidable. “That was quick. Is it done?”

“She got away.” The brush stills in his hand, halfway to the canvas and he takes a deep breath.

“Oh? I thought I sent you to kill her.” He says evenly and Ambrosia realizes that this is much worse than she realized. Before she can react or even blink Klaus is mere inches from her face, the wooden handle of his paint brush shoved into her abdomen and making her gasp in pain. “Why is she still alive?”

“It’s not Sabine.” She struggles to speak and his eyes narrow, waiting for her to continue. When she doesn’t he twists his wrist, sending the wooden handle that much farther into her body and making her yelp in agony. “It’s Celeste! Celeste DuBois! She’s still alive! Nik, I swear, that’s all I know.”

He pulls back, ripping the paint brush out and dropping it in the cup of water beside his easel, the water turning a muddy red almost immediately. “That witch is really starting to become something of a bother. If she escapes again you’re spending the next half a century in a coffin with a dagger in your chest.”

“She won’t. I won’t allow it.” Amber growls, gripping her abdomen despite the wound already being mostly healed.

“You better not. I would hate to have to punish you.” He sighs, pulling out a clean paint brush and continuing what he was doing when she walked in. “You have 12 hours to find her and kill her or the next death will be yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any questions about Amber? Or where the story is headed? 
> 
> Feel free to drop me a comment and I'll see what I can do about tying up any loose ends or questions that you may have or if you just wanna talk. 
> 
> Have a good day, night, morning or evening wherever you are and whenever you read this. I'll see all your lovely faces next time.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am honestly surprised I've been able to keep a semi-regular update schedule... Ask anyone who's ever read any of the other stuff I've written; I am HORRIBLE at updating regularly.
> 
> But I'm gonna stop before I jinx myself. Hope you like it.
> 
> Enjoy.

“So _you’re_ the witch that Elijah made a deal with.” Amber says, looking the brunette up and down when she comes out of her little shop.

She nearly jumps out of her own skin, narrowly avoiding dropping the keys clutched in her grip. When she turns to face Amber she calms slightly, not seeing any hostility in the vampire’s eyes, just curiosity. “Yeah. Who are you?”

“A friend, if you’re willing, a foe, if you’re not. I need a favor of you.”

“What do you want from _me_?” Sophie asks, taking a step towards Amber.

“I need to know where a certain witch is. Goes by the name of Sabine? Has a bit of a bitchy attitude? Ring any bells?”

“Why do you want her? What did she do to you?” Sophie asks, walking down the street side by side with Amber, ignoring the looks she gets from Marcel’s spies.

“Nothing that concerns you. This is between me and the little witch. Where can I find her? Or should I tell Marcel’s little goons that you’re conspiring against him with an Original?” Amber threatens, eyes flickering to each of the four vampires around the block, all watching the pair with keen eyes.

“Fine. She’s probably at the cemetery.” Amber starts to walk away but Sophie stops her with a hand on her elbow. “But its sacred ground, you can’t get in.”

“You’re going to invite me in, Miss Deveraux. Wouldn’t want to give Marcel the wrong idea, would we?” Amber’s smile is all hard edges and sharp eyes. “Lead the way.”

Sophie just sighs and keeps walking, taking the Original to the cemetery without another word, not wanting to give her anything she can use against her. “Come on in.”

“You can leave now.” Amber tells her once she is standing inside of the cemetery gates, not needing an audience for what comes next. “Go home. You’ll be safe. I’ll make sure Marcel knows just how helpful you were.”

Before Sophie can respond Amber vanishes, searching for the reason she is there in the first place. She slows when she gets to the right crypt, the smell of sage and vervain telling her that she’s in the right place. “You’re awfully persistent.”

“I could say the same about you.” Amber comments, walking into Celeste’s line of sight. “You know why I’m here?”

“Probably to kill me. What makes you think that I won’t just jump bodies again?”

“I have no doubt that that’s what the spell you just did was for. To complete my assignment Sabine has to die. But I want _you_ dead, Celeste. So how do you propose we settle this?” Amber asks, circling the witch as she calmly rises to her feet.

“You’re an Original, so I can’t kill you, but I _can_ torture you. Are you sure you want to go through that?” Celeste baits, sounding more innocent than she has any right to.

“I don’t have a choice. For two hundred years I have watched Elijah be in love with you, even after your supposed death. I want nothing more than to watch the life drain from your corpse. But I know you’re smarter than that. So here’s what I’m going to do instead.” Amber dashes forward, gripping Celeste by the back of the neck, biting into the flesh of her own wrist and shoving it into the witch’s mouth, holding her still until she has no choice but to swallow or suffocate. “You can’t be a witch _and_ a vampire.” With that she snaps Sabine’s neck, her body crumpling to the ground at her feet. Amber bends down and pulls out a small dagger from her left boot, the blade made of beautifully carved wood but still as sharp as any metal knife. She twirls the blade in her fingertips, pulling out her phone and calling Father O’Connell as she takes a seat on the stone steps leading down into the crypt.

+++

“Why am I here?” The Father asks when he meets her in the cemetery 20 minutes later.

“Because I need someone alive and you’re the only breather I’m currently talking to. Call it a favor and I’ll owe you one.” She shrugs, walking back down into the crypt where Sabine’s body is still laying crumpled on the ground, her neck still broken.

“What is this!?” Kieran demands, bending by her side and picking her head up in his arms.

“Oh, relax. She’s likely been dead for months or would be soon. Sabine was being possessed by a very, very old witch. A witch that I just fed my blood. I plan on killing her again, the moment she wakes up. But in order to do that she needs to change first. That’s why you’re here.” Just as she finishes talking she hears Sabine groan and Father O’Connell turns his attention back to her.

“You bitch.” She glares at Amber, anger drawn in every line of her face.

“I’ve been called worse, _honey_.” She winks, gripping Kieran’s wrist and biting down, ignoring the lightheadedness and burning sensation that accompanies his vervain-tainted blood, holding it over the woman’s mouth so that even if she doesn’t actively try to swallow a few drops will undoubtedly make their way in while she is protesting.

The second the veins around her eyes darken and her fangs drop Amber spins her knife in her fingers, stabbing it into Celeste’s – well Sabine’s – heart. She watches the color drain from her eyes, pulling the dagger back out and wiping it off on Sabine’s shirt before putting it back in her boot.

“How could you be so cold?”

“I’ve been under Klaus’ thumb for almost a thousand years, Padre. I am capable of things you couldn’t even _dream_ of.” She says, gesturing to the dead body in the center of the floor. “Bless that or something.”

When she walks out of the crypt she texts Klaus to tell him it’s done, happy to have dodged a bullet, or rather, a silver dagger, at least for the time being.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what'd you think? 
> 
> I needed to show the darker, more predatory side of Amber because she is Klaus' underling. She isn't above using less than good methods to achieve her goal, so long as it keeps Nik off of her back, but I'll get into all that a LOT more in future chapters.
> 
> Come talk to me if you feel like it! I'll be down in the comments, per usual. :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long, life kind of happened. 
> 
> Well, life and my shitty laptop, but ya know.
> 
> Regardless, I hope you enjoy.

“I had a feeling he would call you here.” A voice rings into the alley where Amber is currently draining a tourist of a pint of their blood.

Ambrosia doesn’t even bother to turn around because she knows who will be standing there. She sighs and licks her lips, meeting eyes with the man she has pressed up against the wall, her British accent even thicker than normal thanks to the sheer amount of alcohol that is running through the human’s veins and now in her own. “You’re going to remember going back to your hotel with a girl. You’re going to remember that you had fun, that it was great, and that it got a little kinky. You remember liking it when she accidentally bit too hard and you’re going to take care of those marks and make sure they don’t get infected. Now go back to your hotel, take a shower and go to bed. You’re going to wake up feeling great. Run along.” She steps to the side, the blue streaks in her hair catching what little amount of light from the streetlamps on Bourbon Street manage to make it this far into the alley. “It’s been a long time, Rebekah. How have you been?”

“Overall not much has changed since I last saw you. Per usual, one of my brothers is a head case obsessed with power and control and another has a stick rammed so far up his arse I’m pretty sure he uses it as a toothpick.” The blonde grins, walking forward and hugging her oldest friend closely.  “I’ve missed you, Rosie.”

“And I’ve missed you, Bekah. How _is_ Elijah?” She asks, knowing that the only other female Original keeps an eye on her estranged husband for her, despite not being able to tell him that his first love is still alive and under his brother’s control since Niklaus threatened to use a white oak stake on her if she ever tried when she herself found out that Amber was still alive.

“He’s the same insufferably noble Elijah. He actually has his eye on a werewolf girl named Hayley. She’s Klaus’ baby mama and somehow she’s captivated my eldest living brother’s attention.” Rebekah sighs, hating that her best friend has watched the man she loves fall in love with other women twice now. “He won’t make a move, though, because Klaus gets all twitchy and defensive if he so much as breathes in the girl’s direction.”

“Once again sacrificing his happiness for the sake of Niklaus. I only hope that hybrid knows how damn lucky he is. If Elijah ever found out I was alive I would hate to be part of the fight to follow.” Amber sighs. “And I already know about _Hayley_. She was the first thing I learned about when I got to town and started digging. I had just hoped they were wrong – _my_ husband, interested in a _dog_ , oh how the mighty have fallen.”

“I’m so sorry, Rosie.” The vulnerable look of despair in Rebekah’s eyes makes Amber shake her head.

“Don’t be. If I was truly dead I would want him to move on and he has. I cannot fault him for not being hung up on a ghost for a thousand years.”

“There is another reason that I’m on Bourbon Street tonight.” Rebekah admits and Ambrosia looks up at her, studying her expression and her eyes narrow.

“What did you do, Bek?” She asks the Original, knowing what the glint in her eyes and the small half smile mean.

“I may have found a way around Nik’s gag order.” She beams and Amber looks at her in wide-eyed shock.

“How? The paranoid bastard thought of everything!” She gestures wildly, wanting to know but also hoping that Rebekah doesn’t tell her in case Klaus compels her to tell him everything she knows. “You know what, don’t tell me. And if you do make sure you compel me to keep it secret.”

“For the most part that’s true. But I can be just as cunning and devious and even more charming than my big brother. I have a present for you. Come on, you’re going to love it, I promise.” The blonde holds out her hand and Amber doesn’t hesitate to take it, letting Rebekah lead the way to whatever it is that she wants the black and blue haired Original to see.

**  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Reunion of friends!
> 
> I couldn't NOT have Amber and Rebekah be friends, they're two peas in a pod, basically. Plus, Amber is gonna need all the help she can get to figure out a way to get out from under Nik's thumb.
> 
> More on that in the next chapter. 
> 
> I'd say something along the lines of "come talk to me in the comments" but you already know by now.
> 
> Have a nice week!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My best friend is sick in bed and asked for an update, so i pushed up the release of this chapter. If there are any mistakes, or more than usual, it's because I didn't take much time to edit. If anything is glaringly wrong, tell me in the comments.
> 
> Thanks and enjoy!

**1001 A.D.**

Ambrosia sticks her hand into the mound of dirt beside the deep hole in the ground, scooping a fistful of the stuff into her palm and turning to face the grave. “I love you, _mamma_. You may rest now. Be at peace with Father and the ancestors.” She opens her fist with her palm facing the sky, allowing the soil to slip through her fingers into the grave until there is nothing left. “I am protected and safe. You have fulfilled your promise.”

She takes a step back from the hole, closing her eyes and tilting her head back, listening to the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. If she listens hard enough she can almost imagine that the quiet rustling of leaves and the whistling of wind is her mother speaking, telling her that she loves her and that she is proud of her. Mikael and Esther both step up to the grave, paying their respects to a dear friend before adding their own handfuls of dirt to the pit. One by one the Mikaelson children, and eventually all of the townspeople, take their turn saying goodbye to the kind woman that always offered words of encouragement and strength to those around her, even in the darkest of times, before taking a few more steps to say the same to a boy the whole village adored, an innocent.

By the time the sun begins to dip towards the horizon Ambrosia feels numb, empty, drained of both tears and emotion. On the crest of the tallest hill just east of town there now sit two brand new graves, both for people that died too soon. One for Queen Eydis Voll and one for the youngest Mikaelson, Henrik, the pair laying side by side for all of eternity as a reminder of the price one might pay for not being cautious and safe.

As Elijah and Klaus are steering Ambrosia back towards her home to get some much-needed rest Mikael gestures for them to walk away. They nod their heads in respect and silently slip off in the direction of the village while Mikael offers his arm to the grief-stricken beauty beside him and they begin the trek back to Ambrosia’s home, where Rebekah is already waiting with food and a warm fire stoked, prepared to stay as long as Ambrosia has need of her company.

“Thank you, Mikael.” She smiles weakly, gratefully leaning on the Viking as he walks her back towards the village. “I cannot thank your family enough.”

“It was our pleasure, Ambrosia. As you know, you are part of our family, my dear. We treat you like we would our own children. My wife is working on a spell, an enchantment, to protect what remains of that family as we speak. I would be grateful if you would partake in it as well, as a sort of wedding present from us both.” He says and Ambrosia looks up at him with wide blue eyes, the whites still tinged a flushed pink from all the day’s tears.

“Mother had yet to decide to which of your sons I would be married. My day of birth is still nearly a month off. You are too kind to me, Mikael.” She lowers her face, feeling unworthy of the attention that she has been paid when this family is going through loss just as bad as her own, if not worse.

“Your mother has known which son you would marry since the day she set your bride price. She knew even then which of them truly held your heart. I will respect her wishes and you shall be married in your own time, on your own terms to my second eldest son. I know that you and Elijah have grown quite fond of one another and I do not intend to prevent such an honorable union. Please, allow me to do you this one last favor before you pledge yourself to my family.” Mikael begs, carefully taking her hand between both of his own.

“Alright. I thank you and your entire family, Mikael. And I am so sorry for the loss of your youngest son.” Ambrosia rests her free hand on Mikael’s shoulder, her eyes wide and innocent and her face honest and caring. “We should get back. It is getting rather cold at night now and it wouldn’t do either of us any good to get sick.”

“Of course. Shall we?” He gestures and they continue back towards town, Ambrosia not realizing that the Viking is leading her towards her own death, as well as the deaths of his entire family.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how's that for a sick day present, Bex? 
> 
> I'll have the next chapter up in about a week to a week and a half. Until then have a wonderful week!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse. This update is months upon months late.

**Present Day**

“What you are about to see is a secret. Under no circumstances are you allowed to tell Nik. Do I make myself clear?” Rebekah asks, looking directly into Amber’s ice blue eyes and compelling her, the sounds of the bar behind them drifting through the open door.

“I will not tell Nik.” She nods and then Rebekah hands her back her necklace before she turns, allowing her to snap out of the compulsion and return the combination daylight item and anti-compulsion charm to its rightful place on the base of her throat. “Now what is this big secret of yours? You’re not in love again, are you?”

“No, nothing like that. I have someone that you might want to see.” She winks, strutting into The Old Absinthe House with Amber close on her heels.

The moment they step through the door their senses are assaulted by the overwhelming smell of alcohol and sweat, the close packed bodies accounting for both. Rebekah carves a path to the bar, slipping between people and trying to avoid contact with as many of them as possible. By the time they reach the bar they are both a little agitated and Amber begins to wonder once again why Rebekah would even step foot through the pub’s door.

When they get to the bar Rebekah orders two shots of absinthe neat and a scotch on the rocks in French, Amber quickly chiming in to order the same. While the bartender gets their drinks together Rebekah turns to face Amber, nearly shoulder to shoulder with the people on either side of her and barely four inches in front of her fellow Original. “I figured this would be the last place Nik would look. He knows how much I hate tightly packed spaces.” Rebekah grumbles, not bothering to yell over the hum of the crowd because she knows that Ambrosia will still hear her either way. She turns back around to take her drinks from the girl behind the bar, passing Amber hers and then giving the bartender a $100 bill and telling her to keep the change.

She downs the shots and leaves the glasses upside down on the bar before working her way back through the crowd to the stairs leading to the second floor. Amber follows closely behind, not wanting to lose the blonde in the crowd full of humans around them. They make their way upstairs where there are even more people, if that’s even possible, and Rebekah starts to lose her patience, pushing and shoving her way through the crowd to the balcony, where there is at least room to breathe. She walks towards the last table on the balcony where a girl with bright blood red hair sits with her back to them.

The girl is angled so that she is facing out towards the street, her legs crossed and making her black leather mini skirt hike up even higher than where it would usually sit, her black suede thigh high boots catching on the low lighting of the bar and making her alabaster skin look even more pale than it already is. When they step closer Amber also notices the red strapless top hugging her curves, accentuated by a form-fitting black leather jacket. Rebekah doesn’t hesitate, she just goes to the seat across from the girl and sits down, resting her glass of scotch on the table with a huge grin.

When Amber finally gets close enough to see the woman’s face she freezes, shock and confusion rooting her in place. Before she can process what she is seeing the woman is talking to her in a thick Irish accent, a small smile on her freckle-dotted face. “Hello, Ambrosia. It’s been a while hasn’t it?”

“Casey?” Amber asks, her jaw dropped in disbelief as she gawks at the woman in front of her, the scotch glass cracking in her hand when she accidentally grips it too tight in her shock.

“In the flesh.” The Irishwoman gestures to herself, standing and opening her arms to hug Amber. “It’s good to see you,  _ mo chara _ . I hated keeping a secret from you for so long.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for my absence, and for not being able to promise it won't happen again...

**Author's Note:**

> I am writing this thing because I had this plot bunny attack me one night and it's just kind of burrowed in and stayed there. I hope you guys like it regardless.
> 
> If you feel like it come talk to me in the comments; personally I think that's one of the best parts of writing fanfic to be honest.
> 
> I'll see you next time.


End file.
